Locomotive, Volume 46, Number 9, Indianapolis, Marion County, 16 October 1858 — Page 1

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ELDER & HARKNESS, "The Chariots shall rage in the streets, they shall seem like torches, they shall run like the lightnings.'' Wiumt, 4. Printers and Publishers. VOL. XLVI INDIANAPOLTS, IND. SATURDAY, OCTOBER 1G, 1858. NO. 9.

THE LOCOMOTIVE IS PRINTED AND PUBLISHED EVERT SATURDAY BY El D E R & HARKNESS, At their Book and Job Printing Office, on Meridian Street, Indianapolis, Ind.. opposite the Post Office. TERMS One Dollar a year. Twenty-dve Cents for three months. Six copies to olio address for one year, Five Dollars; thirteen copies one vear for Ten Dollars, fCTiN advance ik ali CA8ES..JJI No paper will be sent until ptiid for, and no paper will be continued after the time paid for expires, unless renewed. " , ' Look out for thi Coss. All mail and county subscribers can know their time is out when they see a larire cross marked on their i-aper, and that is always the last paper sent until the (ulseriptionis renewed. terms op milium: Onesquare, (81ines.orless,250 ms,) for I week 0.50 for each subsequent insertion 0 85 " for threo months. 3-00 ' for six months 5.0O u for one year, without alteration 8.00 u " for one year, Willi frequent changes 12.00 A small reduction mads on larger advertisements. Cuts and Special Notices double the above rates. Tcrnis--Cash. p Advertisements must be handedin by Thursday of each week, or they will be deferred until the next issue.

ovr. O 13 33 ; MIPliOTED SPECT A'C LES! THE BEST I IV USE. : rfflHESE Glasses are made of THE PUREST MATERIA L, I and ground upon KC 1 ENT1 F 1C PRINCIPLES. AndHOt only give clear anil-distinct vision, but are highly endowed nil'h the property of preserving the sight. Office No. 8 west Washington street, up stairs. Oct.. 5 00 , OF THE Great Western Cast Steel I'lows, at the ; ; ACBICliLTUBAL WAKEIIOUSE, " " Under Masonic Hall, Indianapolis, Indiana, 1SF.ABD SIJiEX) Proprietors. HAVING recently fitted up a large Shop nod Warehouse in Masonic Hall, we are now prepared to offer to our frionds and customers, and to the public generally, such m ducements as has never before been offered in the West, in regard to prices and quality of materials and workmanship. We have en hand a large quantity of our celebrated Great Western Cast Steel Plows of all sizes, from a one-horse Corn Plow to the largest size Road Plow. - " -- We would respectfully invite the attention of Farmers and all who are in want of funning Implements, to our stock before purchasing elsewhere, as we are confident that we can sell them the best improvements that can be obtained in the country and as we buy our material in large quantities from first hands, we are.also prepared to offer great inducements in prices. VO A liberal discount made to the trade. -jan23-3m . , . ... BtAI(u GLASS & STONEWARE DEPOT. AT WHOLESALE. 100 West Washington Street, opposite the State House. D. C. DIIDIEMAS) dec!9-ly Commission Merchant. E. J. BALDWIN & CO., JEWELER S. IVo. 1 Bates House. ' . THANKFUL FOR PAST FAVORS, would respectfully beg leave toinform the public that they are still on baud with their usual full assortment of every thine in the way of ; "Watches, Jewelry, Silver Ware, A-c.' We wish itdistinctly understood that we do notkecpthe low triced, bogus Watches and Jewelry, gotten up for auction sales; bnt will guarantee to sell good, honest articlesas low as can possibly be had elsewhere in the West. Our Silver ' is warranted equal to Coin; our Watches bound to go and keep time, and all our goods just what we represent them to be. For further proof c all and examine for yourselves. We have the beft Wat'Hmakkr in the country in our employ; so bring on your Watches. febS-tf. FURNITURE WAREROOM. JOIIit V E T T E K , Meridian St., in Kcely's Invincible Block, 5 DOORS SOUTH OF POST OFFICE. ! , T7"EEPS on hand all kinds of good and solid Furniture, which JLV he sells at the lowest prices. As Cubinet-maker and Turner, he is prepared at any time to promptly execute all orders in his line or business. His factory is opposite the Madison Depot. Everything done is warranted to be in the neatest and most durable st) le. , aprl7 JOHN VETTER. r UEMOVEl). r' II. VA JEN has removed his New Store, No. 21, West . Washington street, opposite Browning's Drug Store, where he keeps constantly on hand, the largest and Best Assorted .stock of Hardware in the City, at Hcduced Prices. He has just received a large lot of Gum Belling, Rope and Blocks; Axes, Nails. Locks, Hinges, Polished Firs Setts, Ames" Shovels, Fine Cutlery, Ac. - m dec-5 J . R A It It , Vcnitian Blind Manufacturer, 3 3 Squares North of Court flonse, on Alabama street. 'f-T'-j Keeps constantly on nana minus mr iinening liSI ses. and also makes to order Blinds for public or private Buildings. M. LONG, Agent t..r Venitian Blinds, on Meridian St., near he Post Office, at his Furniture Wureroom. jau31 , rpAKES pleasure in returning his thanks to the Ladies ind I Gentlemen of this place and vicinity lor their very liberal patronnge, and still hopes to meet the same confidence he has engaged since he commenced the practice of his profession In Indianapolis. ' ArtiUcial Teeth, from one to a full set, Inserted on Platina, Gold, or Silver. Particular attentinn given to regulating, cleaning, and extracting Teeth. Ether given when required. All work warranted, and charges reasonable. Office 2d story Fletcher St Woolley's block, No. 8 East Washington street. Oct. 24-tf - BILL. O. GOLDSMITH. Fruit and Ornamental Nursery. rilHF. undersigned have established themselves in the Nursl ery business on the woll known Nursery grounds formerly occupied by Aaron Aldredge, a few rods esst of the corporation ''", Indianapolis. We have on hand a general assortment of fruit trees, of such varieties as are best adapted to onr soil and climate. The trees are of the very best quality. Also a very flue Mock of Ornamental Shr-hhery. JJj3 We are now ready fill nil orders promptly. Address. . , HILL, GOLHSMITH Sf CO., liov?-V,7.tf Indianapolis, Ind. f Important to Young Men ! ! IF YOU WISH TO ACqUIRK A COMPLETE RNOWL1. EDGiiof Book Keeping In all its brauches, attend HAYDlAiM iMI'.UCAXTIEK COLLI bl Al Indianapolis, where each student is drilled at the desk, step sl. p. until he has mastered the entire routine of an acrountduties, and is fully qualified for taking charge of any set Ol OOr.

I 1 he Evening Session hasconinienced. If you wish tON. He a course this winter, you should enter soon. oi circnlareonlaininfr full particulars, address the Prin- I "l: 'y J. C. HATDE5, Indianapolis, Ind. '

cot F

THE WHIRLIGIG 01 TIME.

"And thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges." TwELTTH NlOHT. My friend Jameson, the lawyer, has frequently whiled away an evening in relating incidents which occurred in his practice during his residence in a Western State. On one occasion he gave a sketch of a criminal trial in which he was employed as counsel ; the story, as developed in court and completed by one of the parties subsequently, made so indelible an impression on my mind that I am constrained to write down its leading features. At the same time, I must say, that, if I had heard it without a voucher for its authenticity, I should have regarded it as tho most improbable of fictions. But the observing reader will remember that remarkable coincidences, and the signal triumph of the right, called poetical justice, are sometimes seen in actual life as well as in novels. Tho tale must begin in Saxony. Carl Proch was an honest farmer, who tilled a small tract of crown land and thereby supported liis aged mother. Faithful to his duties, he had never a thought of discontent, but was willing to plod on in the way his father had gone before him. Filial affection, however, did not so far engross him as to prevent his casting admiring glances on the lovely Katrine, daughter of old Rauchen, the miller ; and no wonder, for she was as fascinating a damsel as ever dazzled and perplexed a bashful lover. She had admiration enough, for to see her was to love her; many of the village youngsters had looked unutterable things as they met her at May feasts and holidays, but up to this time she had received no poetical epistles nor direct proposals, and was as cheerful and heart-free as the birds that sang around her windows. . Her father was the traditional guardian of beauty, surly as the mastiff that watched his sacks of flour and his hoard of thalers ; and though he doted on his darling Katrine, his heart to all the world beside seemed to be only a chip from one of his old mill-stones. When Carl thought of the severe gray eyes that shot such glances at all lingering youths, the difficulty of winning the pretty heiress seemed to be quite enough, even with a field clear of rivals. But two other suitors now made advances, more or less openly, and poor Carl thought himself entirely overshadowed. One was Schonfeld, the most considerable farmer in the neighborhood, a widower, with hair beginning to show threads of silver, and a fierce man withal, who was supposed to have once slain a rival, wearing thereafter a seam in his cheek as a souvenir of the encounter. The other was Hans Stolzen, a carpenter, past thirty, a shrewd, well-to-do fellow, with nearly a thousand thalers saved from his earnings. Carl had never fought a duel, and he had not saved so much as a thousand groschen, to say nothing of thalers ; he had only a manly figure, a cheery, open face, the freshness of one-and-twenty, and a heart incapable of guile. Katrine was not long in discovering these excellences, and, if his boldness had equalled his passion, she would have shown him how little she esteemed the pretensions of the proud landholder or the miserly carpenter. But he took it for granted that he was a fool to contend against such odds, and, buttoning his jacket tightly over his throbbing heart, toiled away in his little gelds, thinking that the whole world had never contained so miserable a man. ' Hans Stolzen was the first to propose. He began by paying court to the jealous Rauchen himself, set forth his property and prospects, and asked to become his son-in-law. The miller heard him, puffed long whiffs, and answered civilly, but without committing himself. He was in no hurry to part with the only joy he had, and, as Katrine was barely eighteen, he naturally thought there would be time enough to consider of her marriage hereafter. Hans hardly expected anything more decisive, and, as he had not been flatly refused, came frequently to the house and chatted with her father, while his eyes followed the vivacious Kafcrine as she tripped about her household duties. But Hans was perpetually kept at a distance ; the humming-bird would never alight upon the outstretched hand. He had not the wit to see that their natures had nothing in common, although he did know that Katrine was utterly indifferent towards him, and after some months of hopeless pursuit he began to grow sullenly angry. He was not long without an object on which to vent his rage. One evening, as Katrine was returning homeward, she chanced to pass Carl's cottage. . Carl was loitering under a tree hard by, listening to the quick footsteps to which his heart kept time. It was the coming of Fate to hiin, for he had made up his mind to tell her of the love that was consuming him. J. wo days bofore, with tears on his bashf ul face, he had confided all to his mother ; and, at her suggestion, he had now pro vided a little present by wa3r of introduction. Katrine smiled sweetly as she approached, for, with a woman's quick eye, she had read his glances long before. His lips at first rebelled, but he struggled out a salutation, and, the ice once broken, he found himself strangely unembarrassed. He breathed freely. It seemed to him that their relations must have been fixed in some previous state of existence, so natural was it to be in familiar and almost affectionate communication with the woman whom before ho had loved afar oil', as a patre might sigh for a queen. " Stay, Katrine," he said, ' I had nearly forgotten.' He ran hastily into the cottage, and soon returned with a covered basket. " See, Katrine, these white rabbits I are they not pretty r " Oh, the little pets 1" exclaimed Katrine. " Are they yours ?" " No, Katrinchen, that is, they were mine ; now they are yours. " Thank you, Carl. I shall love them dearly." " For my sake V" For their own, Carl, certainly ; for yours also, a little." "Good-bye, Bunny," said he, patting the head of one of the rabbits. " Love your mistress ; and, mind, little whitey, don't keep those long ears of yours for nothing ; tell me it you ever hear anything about me. " Perhaps Carl had better come and hear for him. gelf don't you tliink so, Bunny V" said Katrine, taking tiie basket. The tone and manner said more than the Words, Carl's pulses bounded ; he seized her unresisting hand and covered it with kisses. " So ! this is the bashful vouno- man I" thought Katrine. " I shall not need to enrouraue him any more, surely." The night was coming on ; Katrine remembered her father, and started towards the mill, whose broad arms could scarcely be seen througn tne twmgnr. carl acnrr,inipl her to the irate, and. after a furtive clance unward to the house-windows, bade her farewell, with K . , i t i .v,.,i: i: .,it- . . a KISS, anu lurncu aouicnaiu, icciiiiy jumacii a uiau for the first time in his life. Frau Proch had seen the pantomime through the flowers that stood on the window-sill, not ill-pleased, and was waiting her son's return. An hour passed, i am) ho did not come. Another hour, and she began to grow anxious. When it was near midight, she nuitrwi her nearest neighbor and asked him to go to- . ink the mill and look for Carl. An hour of terrible ' .iui ensued. It was worse than she had even 1 Carl lav bv the roadside, not far from the mill, insensible, covered with blood, moaning feebly at first, and afterwards silent, if not breathless. Ghastly wounds covered his head, and his aims and shoulders were livid with bruises. The neighboring peasants ; surrounded the apparently lifeless body, and listened with awe to the frenzied imprecations of Frau Proch upon the murderer of her son. "May he die in a ! forci'm laud," said she, lifting her withered hands to I Heaven, " without wife to nursckim or priest to speak

peace to his soul I May his body lie unburied.a prey for wolves and vultures 1 May his inheritance pass into the hands of strangers, and his name perish from the earth 1" ... They muttered their prayers, as they encountered her bloodshot, but tearless eyes, and left her with her son. For a whole day and night he did not speak ; then a violent brain-fever set in, and he raved continually. He fancied himself pursued by Hans Stolzen, and recoiled as from the blows of his staff. When this was reported, suspicion was directed at once to Stolzen as the criminal ; but before an arrest could be made, it was found that he had fled. His disappearance confirmed the belief of his guilt. In truth, it was the rejected suitor, who, in a fit of jealous rage, had waylaid his rival in the dark, beat him, and left him for dead. Katrine, who had always disliked Stolzen, especially after he had pursued her with his coarse and awkward gallantry, now natui-ally felt a warmer affection for the victim of his brutality. She threw of all disguise, and went frequently to Frau Proch's cottage, to aid in nursing the invalid during his slow and painful recovery. She had, one day, the unspeakable pleasure of catching the first gleam of returning sanity in her hapless lover, as she bent over hiin and with gentle fingers smoothed his knotted forehead and temples. An indissoluble tie now bound them together ; their mutual love was consecrated by suffering and sacrifice ; and they vowed to be faithful in life and in death. When Carl at length became strong and commenced labor, he hoped speedily to claim his betrothed, and was waiting a favorable opportunity to obtain her father's consent to their marriage. The scars were the only evidence of the suffering he had endured. No bones had been broken, and he was as erect and as vigorous as before the assault. But Carl, most unfortunate of men, was not destined so soon to enjoy the happiness for which he hoped, the love that had called him back to life. As the robber eagle sits on his cliff, waiting till the hawk has seized the ring-dove, then darts down and beats off the captor, that he may

secure for himself the prize, so Schonfeld, not unin formed of what was coins; on, stood ready to pounce upon the suitor who should gain Katrine's favor, and sweep the last rival out of the way. An officer in the king's service appeared in the village to draw the con scripts tor the army, and the young men trembled like Eenned-up sheep at the entrance of tho blood-stained utcher, not knowing who would be seized for the shambles. The officer had apparently been a friend and companion of Schonfield's in former days, and passed some time at his house. It was perhaps only a coincidence, but it struck the neighbors as very odd at least, that Carl Proch was the first drawn for the army. He had no money to hire a substitute, and there was no alternative : he must serve his three years. This last blow was too much for his poor mother. Worn down by her constant assiduity in nursing him, anoV overcome by the sense of utter desolation, she sunk into her grave, and was buried on the very day that Carl, with the other recruits, was marched off. , What new torture the betrothed Katrine felt is not to be told. Three years were to her an eternity; arid her imagination called up such visions of danger from wounds, privations, and disease, tliat she parted from her lover as though it were forever". The miller found that the light and the melody of his house were gone Katrine was silent and sorrowful ; her frame wasted and her step grew feeble. : To all his offers of condolence she made no reply, except to remind him how with tears she had besought his interference in Carl's behalf. She would not be comforted. . The father little knew the feeling she possessed ; he had thought that her attachment to her rustic lover was only a girlish fancy, and that she would speedily forget him ; but now her despairing look frightened him. . To the neighbors, who looked inquisitively as he sat by the mill-door, smoking, he complained of the quality of his tobacco, vowing that it made his eyes so tender that they watered ujiou the slightest whiff. For six months Schonfeld wisely kept away ; that period, he thought, would be long enough to efface any recollection of the absent soldier. Then he presented himself, and, in his usual imperious way, offered his hand to Katrine. The miller was inclined to favor his suit. In wealth and position Schonfield was first m the village ; he would be a powerfull ally, and a very disagreeable enemy. In fact, Rauchen really feared to refuse the demand ; and he plied his daughter with such argument as he could command, hoping to move her to accept the offer. Katrine, however, was convinced of the truth of her former suspicion, that Carl was a victim of the Schonf eld's craft; and her rejection of his proposal was pointed with an indignation which she took no pains to conceal. The old scar showed strangely white in his puqile face, as he left tho mill, vowing vengeance for the affront. Eauchen and his daughter were now more solitary than ever. The father had forgotten the roaring stories he used to tell to the neighboring peasants, over foaming -flagons of ale, at the little inn ; he sat at his mill-door and smoked incessantly. Katrine shunned the festivities in which she was once queen, and her manner, though kindly, was silent and reserved ; she went to church, it is true, but she wore a look of settled sorrow that awed curiosity and even repelled sympathy. ' But scandal is a plant that needs no root in the earth; like the houseleek, it can thrive upon air; and those who separate themselves the most entirely from the world are apt, for that very reason, to receive the larger share of its attention. The village girls looked first with pity, then with wonder, and at length with aversion, upon the gentle and unfortunate Katrine. Careless as she was with regard to public opinion, she saw not without pain the altered looks of her old associates, and before long she came to know the cause. A cruel suspicion had been whispered about, touching her in a most tender point. It was not without reason, so the gossip ran, that she had refused so eligible an offer of marriage as Schonfeld's. The story reached the ears of Rauchen, at last. With a fierce energy, such as he had never exhibited before, he tracked it from cottage to cottage, until he came to Schonfeld's house-keeper, who refused to give her authority. The next market-day Rauchen encountered the former suitor and publicly charged him with the slander, in such terms as his baseness deserved. Schonfeld, thrown off his guard by the sudden attack, struck his adversary a heavy blow ; but the miller rushed upon him, and left him to be carried home, a bundle of aches and bruises. After this the tongues of the gossips were quiet ; no one was willing to answer for guesses or rumors at the end of Rauchen's staff ; and the father and daughter resumed their monotonous mode of life. The ihree years at length passed, and Carl Proch returned home, a trifle more sedate, perhaps, but the same noble, manly fellow. How warmly he was received by the constant Katrine it is not necessary to relate. Rauchen was not disposed to thwart ms lonsrsuffering daughter any further ; and with his consent the young couple were speedily married, and lived in his house. The gayety of forn-er years came back ; cheerful songs and merry laughter were heard in the lately silent rooms. Rauchen himself grew younger, especially after the birth of a grandson, and often resumed his old place at the inn, telling the old stories with the old gusto over the ever-welcome ale But one morning, not long after, he was found dead in his bed ; a smile was on his face, and his hmbs were stretched out as in peaceful repose. There was no longer any tie to bind Carl to his native village. All his kin, as well as Katrine's, were in the grave. He was not bred a miller, and did not feel competent to manage the mill. Besides, his mind had

received new ideas while he was in the army. He

had heard of countries where men were equal before the laws, where the peasant owed no allegiance but to society. The germ of liberty had been planted in his breast, and ha could no longer live contented with the rank in which he. had been born. At least he wished that his children might grow up free from the chilling influences that had fallen upon him. A( his earnest persuasion, Katrine consented that the mill should be sold, and soon after, with his wife and child, he went to Bremen and embarked for America. We must now follow the absconding Stolzen, who, with his bag of thalers, had made good his escape into i.ngland.' lie lived in London, where he found socie ty among his-countrymen. His habitual shrewdness never deserted him, and from small beginnings he gradually amassed a moderate fortune. His first experiment in proposing for a wife satisfied him, but in a great city his sensual nature was fully developed. His bru tal passions were unchecked; Conscience seemed to have left him itterly. At length he began to think about quitting London. He was afraid to return to Germany, for, as he had left Carl to all appearance dead, he thought the officers of the law would seize him. He determined to co to Australia, and secured a berth in a clipper ship bound for Melbourne, but some accident prevented his reaching the pier in season ; the vessel sailed without him, and was nev er heard of afterwards. Then he proposed to buy an estate in Canada ; but the owner failed to make his appearance at the time appointed for the negotiation, and the bargain was not completed. At last he took passage for New York, whither a Hebrew acquaint ance ot Ins had gone, a year or two before, and was established as a broker. Upon arriving in that city, Stolzan purchased of an agent a tract of land in a Wes tern State, situated on the shore of Lake Michigan ; and after reserving a sum of money for immediate pur poses, he deposited his funds with his friend, the broker, and. started .westward. Ho traveled the usual route by rail, then a short distance in a mail-coach, which carried him within six miles ot his farm. Leaving his luggage to be sent for, he started to walk the remaining distance. It was a sultry day, and the prairie road was anything but pleasant to a pedestrian unaccustomed to heat and dust. After walking less than an hour, he determined to stop at a small house near the road, for rest, and some water to quench his thirst ; but as he approached, the baying hounds, no Ies3 than the squalid children about the door, repelled him, and Tie went on to the next house. He now turned down a preen lane, between rows of thrifty trees, to a neat ioocabin, whbse nicely-plastered walls and the regular fence inclosing it testified to the thrift and good taste of tho, owner. . He knocked ; all was still. Again, and thirsty as he was on the point of leaving, when he heard a step within. Ho waited ; the door opened, and before him stood Katrine 1 She did not know him ; but he had not forgotten that voluptuous figure nor those melting blue eyes. He preferred his requests, looking through the doorway at the same time to make sure that she had no protector. Katrine brought the stranger a gourd of water, and offered him a chair, bhe did not see the baleful eyes ho threw after her as she went about her household duties. Stolzen had dropped from her firmament like a fallen and forgotten star. Secure in her unsuspecting innocence, she chirruped to her baby and resumed her sewing. That evening, when Carl Proch returned from his field, after his usual hard day's labor, he found his wife on the floor, sobbing, speechless, and the child, unnoticed, crying in his cradle. His dog sat by the hearth with a look of almost intelligent sympathy, and whined as his master entered the room. He raised Katrine and held her in his arms like a child, covered her face with kisses, and implored her to speak. She seemed to be in a fearful dream, and shrunk from some imagined danger in the extremest terror. Gradually her sobs became less frequent, her tremors ceased, and she smiled upon the manly face that met hers, as though she had only suffered from an imaginary fright. Uut when she telt her hair floating upon her shoulders, saw the almost speaking face of the dog, Bruno, and became conscious ot the cries ot the neglected child, the wave of agony swept over her again, and she could utter only broken ejaculations. As word after word came from her lips, the unhappy husband's flesh tingled ; his hair stiffened with horror ; every nerve seemed to be strung with a new and maddening tension. There was for him no such tiling as fatigue, no distance, no danger, no law, no hereafter, no God. All thought and feeling were drowned in one wild desire for vengeance, vengeance swift, terrible, and final. He first caressed the dog as though he had been a brother ; he put his arms about the shaggy neck, and shook each faithful paw ; he made his wile caress him also. " God be praised, dear Katrine, for your pro tector, the dog 1" said he. " Come, now, Bruno P Katrine saw him depart with his dog and gun ; but if she guessed his errand, she did not dare remonstrate. He walked off rapidly, the dog in advance, now and then baying as though he were on a trail. In the night he returned, and he smiled grimly as he set down the rifle in its accustomed corner. His wife was waiting for him with intense anxiety. It was marvellous to her that he was so cheerful. Jle trotted her upon Ids knee, pressed her a hundred times to his bosom, kissed her forehead, lips, and cheeks, called her his pretty Kate, his dear wde, and every endearing name he knew. : So they sat, like lovers in their teens, till the purpling east told of a new day. The luggage of one Stolzen, a stage-coach passenger, remained at the tavern uncalled-for, for nearly a year. No one knew the man, and his disappearance, though a profound mystery, was not an uncommon thing in a new country. The Hebrew broker in New York received no answers to his letters, though he had carefully preserved the post-office address which Stolzen had given him. He began to fear lest he should be obliged to fulfil the duty of heirship to the property deposited with him. To quiet his natural apprehensions in view of this event, he determined to follow Stolzen's track, as much of it as lay in this world, at least, and find out what had become of him. Upon arriving in the neighborhood, the Jew had a thorough search made. The country was scoured, and on the third day there was a discovery. A man walking on the sandy margin of a river, about two or three miles from Carl's house, saw a skull before him. As the steep bluff nearly overhung the spot where he stood, he conjectured that the body to which the skull belonged was to be found above on its verge. He climbed up, and there saw a headless skeleton. It was the body of Stolzen, as his memorandum-book and other articles showed. ' His pistol was in his pocket, and still loaded; that fact precluded the idea of suicide. Moreover, upon examining more closely, a bullet-hole was found in his breast-bone, around which the parts were broken outwardly, showing that the ball must have entered from behind. It wasclear that Stolzen had been murdered. : ' - - The curse of Frau Proch had been most terribly fulfilled. Circumstances soon pointed to Carl Proch as the perpetrator. A stranger, corresponding to the deceased in size and dress, had been seen, about the time of his disappearance, by the neighboring family, walking towards Proch's house ; and on the evening of the same day an Irishman met Carl going at a rapid rate, with a gun on his shoulder, as though in furious pursuit of some one. A warrant for his arrest was issued, and he was lodged in jail to await his trial. If now the Hebrew had followed the lex talionis, after the manner of his race in ancient times, it mi;ht have I fared badly with poor Carl. But as soon as the bro

ker was satisfied beyond a peradventure that the depositor was actually dead, he hastened back to New York, joyful a3 a crow over a newly-found carcass, to administer upon the estate, leaving the law to take its own course with regard to the murderer. Beyond the two facts just mentioned as implicating Carl, nothing was proved at the trial. Jameson, the lawyer, whom I mentioned at the beginning of this story, was engaged for the defence. He found Carl singularly uncommunicative ; and though the government failed to make out a shadow of a case against his client, he was yet puzzled in his own mind by Carl's silenc", and his real or assumed indifference. Katrine was in court with her child in her arms, watching the proceedings with the closest attention ; though she, as well as Carl, was unable to understand any but the most familiar and colloquial English. The case was speedily decided ; the few facts presented to the jury appeared to have no necessary connection, and there was no known motive for the deed. The jury unanimously acquitted Carl, and with his wife and boy he left the court-room. The verdict was approved by the spectators, for no man in the neighborhood was more universally loved and respected than Carl Proch. Having paid Jameson his fee for his services, Carl was about to depart, when the lawyer's curiosity could be restrained no longer, and he called his client back to the private room of his office. " Carl," said he, "you look like a good fellow, above anything mean or wicked ; but yet I don't know what to make of you. Now you are entirely through with this scrape ; you are acquitted ; and I want to know what is tho meaning of it all. I will keep it secret from all your neighbors. Did you kill Stolzen, or not?"

" Well, if I did," he answered, " can they do anything with me ?" " No," said Jameson. : " Not, if I acknowledge ?" " No, you have been acquitted by a jury ; and by our law a man can never be tried twice for the same offence. You are safe, even if you should go into court and confess the deed." " Well, then, I did kill him, and I would again V For the moment, a fierce light gleamed upon the calm and kindly face. Then, feeling that his answer would give a false view of the case, without the previous history of the parties, Carl sat down and in his broken English told to his lawyer the story I have here attempted to record. It was impossible to doubt a word of it; for the simplicity and pathos of the narrative were above all art. Here was a simple case, which the boldest inventor of schemes to punish villany would have been afraid to use. , Its truth is the thing that most startles the mind accustomed to deal with fictions. i We leave Carl to return to his farm with his wife,, for whom he had suffered so much, and with the hope that no further temptation may come to him in such a guise as almost to make murder a virtue. , i ' A VOLUNTEER BULL-FIGHT. i I remember once seeing, when a lad at school, a fight between two bulls. Although I could not have been more than eight years of age, I shall never forget the spectacle. It happened in thiswise: Close by the school-house a very unpretending edifice it was ran a deep and rapid river. Across it had been thrown a high wooden bridge, the hand-railings of which time and the winds and the weather, had entirely destroyed. The land on the opposite sides of the stream was owned by different persons, and farmed by them respectively. One bright summer day I remember it as it were yesterday the hour of noon had arrived, and a frolicsome, fun-seeking troop of school-boys were let loose for an hour's recreation. All at once the bellowing and roaring of two bulls, that had broken out of their inclosure on each side of the river, attracted our attention. The animals were not yet in sight of each other, but were approaching along the highway at a rate of speed which would cause them to meet near the centre of the high bridge which I have described, and beneath which, at some thirty feet, ran the river, between steep banks. The more daring of us gathered near the bridge, lining it, to see the anticipated fight. We were not disappointed. Nearer and nearer they approached, the proud, E awing combatants. Bashan never produced two rutes of fiercer aspect They lashed their sides with their tails, they tore the ground with their feet. Occasionally they kneeled down, trying to sore the earth with their horns. And as yet they were concealed, each from the other, by the ascent to the bridge at either end. Presently, as they simultaneously ascended the res pective abutments, they came full in sight of each other. The roar was mutual and actually tremendous. Every urchin of us sprang into the fields, and ran. Finding, however, that we were not pursued, we hastily retraced our stops. There they were, the ferocious duelists, quite as sensibly employed as some of ot their human imitators. Front to front, their horns locked, every muscle strained, they -were fighting as only bulls can fight. It seemed an even match. Now one would press back his opponent a few paces, and presently you would hear quick, sharp, short steps, and his adversary would be pressed back in return. The struggling was hard, was long, was savage. For a while neither obtained an advantage. Hitherto they had been pushing eath other lengthwise of the bridge ; suddenly they began to wheel, and, in a moment were facing each other crosswise. They were at right angles with the length of the old bridge, which shook, and creaked, and rocked again with their tramping and their terrible strife. It was the work of a single moment ; one of the beasts I never could tell which one of them, however, as if conscious of his position, made a violent, a desperate Elunje forward, and pressed his antagonist back . ack back till there was but another step of plank behind him between him and nothing 1 The momeut was one of intense interest to us juvenile spectators. Never was the amphitheater of Rome the scene of a more exciting combat. . Another step backward ; yes, the unfortunate bull has been forced to take it ! Back he is pressed, and over he goes ! Such a sight I never saw I probably shall never see again. - Imagine a bull pitched backward over a bridge, and falling at least thirty feet, over and oyer 1 He turned once or twice, probably ; I thought be turned fifty times, there seemed such a confusion of horns and feet revolving, flying through the air. But down he went; the water was deep, and he disappeared, leaving a whirlpool of foam behind him, and making the river undulate far and wide with the concussion of his ponderous bulk. The other bull did not laugh merely because bulls,' as I supposed, could not. But we laughed and shout-; ed our applause. There stood the victor, looking- di-. rectly down into the abyss below, into which he bad . hurled his unlucky foe. He stood, however, but a moment ; and then, as if frightened at the prospect, he began to snort and step backward. Back, back he retreated, with liis head in the same pugnacious attitude as when in combat back still another step' back and over he, too, went on the opposite side of the bridge, performing just as many and as ludicrous somersets as his adversary had done a minute before. ' It was a scene to remember ; and the performance called forth immense applause from the group of ju- , venile amateurs who witnessed it. In about five minutes both bulls might be seen, well sobered by their ducking, dripping wet, scratching np the steep, gravelly banks, each on his own side of the river. " Those ' bulls will never fight any more," said a boy behind me. 1 His prediction turned out correct ; for two more peacebly disposed bulls than they, were, ever afterward, could not have been found.